


Fate in the Grocery Line

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, F/M, First Meetings, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Bobby met his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate in the Grocery Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabyDracky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyDracky/gifts).



As the owner of a salvage yard, he didn’t have much to do with women, and that was fine. But one day that changed.

He was at the grocery store, waiting to check out. There was a woman in front of him, but he didn’t pay much attention to her, until the cashier said, “That will be $27.42.”

The woman stiffened, handed the cashier some money, then dug in the bottom of her purse, coming up with some coins. After a moment she said, “I only have $20.42.”

“You’ll have to put something back,” the cashier said.

The woman blushed. “Alright…um…”

“Here,” Bobby said, handing her a ten dollar bill. He always was a sucker for a damsel in distress, and she was pretty.

“Oh! Oh thank you! This never happens to me, really, but I’ve been so busy this week I didn’t have a chance to go to the bank or ATM.”

Bobby smiled at her as the cashier took the money. “It happens. I’m Bobby.”

“Karen,” she said, holding out her hand. He shook it.

Bobby stood there, trying to figure out a way to keep her from collecting her groceries and leaving so he’d never see her again.

The cashier handed her her change and she gave it to him. “I feel like I should do something to thank you. Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

“Sure,” Bobby said, surprised.

She dug in her purse and pulled out a bit of paper and a pen and scribbled something on it. “Here’s my number.”

She handed him the pen, but he didn’t have any paper.

The cashier had been putting Karen’s groceries into bags, but stopped at that. “Here,” she said, smiling and tearing a sheet off a notepad.

“Thanks,” he said, unaccountably embarrassed. He wrote _Bobby Singer_ on the paper, followed by his number and handed it to Karen.

“See you soon, Bobby,” Karen said, taking her cart and heading out of the store.

Bobby stared after her.


End file.
